


You Leave Me Feeling Dirty

by loveleedstolarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Attempted Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-21
Updated: 2013-03-21
Packaged: 2017-12-05 23:28:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/729122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveleedstolarry/pseuds/loveleedstolarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Can someone please write a fic where Louis is a dancer (contemporary) and the boys aren’t famous, and he and Harry are in a serious relationship? And Louis has a duet with someone that involves a lot of super close touching and Harry gets jealous? Make it long and smutty, please :) Bottom!Louis, too!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Leave Me Feeling Dirty

**Author's Note:**

> prompt by [her](http://frivolouspixie.tumblr.com/post/45146356003/i-have-a-prompt-please-message-me-if-youre).
> 
> I'm terrible at smut, but hey, practice makes perfect (ha, not really). title taken from John Mayer

➜ [Read on Tumblr](http://ithinkhesalwaysbrave.tumblr.com/post/45888412975/you-leave-me-feeling-dirty)

+

It’s not that Harry has trust issues. That would be completely hypocritical of him since both he and Louis are the flirtiest people he knows (and he knows some _really_ flirty people). So, no, it’s not trust issues that Harry has. It’s jealousy.

Jealousy- no matter what some people may say- is something that makes their relationship that much stronger. To some people, jealousy reflects a person’s insecurities. For Harry and Louis, however, it shows that they care. It’s what makes all the flirting okay and what lets them know that they’re wanted. Whenever a touch’s gone on too long or a look gets too heated, the other is there, like a constant reminder that no matter where they are or who they’re with, they’re never really alone.

You would think that being in love with a dancer would have its perks and trust me, it does. Harry smiles at the memory of a rather spectacular pole dance he got for his eighteenth. However, being in love with a dancer also includes the not so perky aspect of having to frequently see your better half dance with someone else. No, scratch that. _Dance_ would be the wrong word to use. _Wrapped around the other’s each and every limb_ would probably be a better choice. Because that’s what happens whenever Louis dances with someone. It’s like they’re having sex on the dance floor. Sometimes this turns Harry on. Sometimes it doesn’t. Now would be one of those ‘it doesn’t’ times.

Usually Louis enters solo competitions but for this particular competition, however, a partner is required.

Harry would very much like to punch whoever made that rule.

He’s staring moodily at the center of the dance floor where his boyfriend is currently running a slow, graceful hand down the length of some girl’s- he can’t be bothered to remember the name- body. Harry glares daggers as he watches Louis duck down so his face is hidden in the dip of the girl’s shoulder. He watches as the girl lifts some long, tanned leg until her foot is by Louis’ head.

The girl couldn’t even bother to wear tights to this practice, Harry pouts. Instead she’s wearing some tight spandex sort of shorts that can _not_ be comfortable to move in. Then again, when Harry had asked Louis about them- because yes, Louis has worn pants like those- he had said they were actually quite flexible. Harry momentarily allows himself to remember how they had tested how flexible they were later that night after Louis’ practice that day.

“That was great, El,” he hears Louis say.

Tight pants on Louis forgotten, Harry’s thoughts snap back to the present moment where Eleanor- not _El_ is currently staring at _his_ boyfriend in a much too adoring manner.

“Thanks, Louis, you were really great, too,” she says in a sugary sweet voice.

Harry huffs silently.

“Same time tomorrow?” Louis inquires, because with the competition only a week away, they’re practicing every _fucking_ day.

Harry definitely does not count down each day till this particular competition is over every night before he goes to bed.

Eleanor exits the studio without a word to Harry who studiously ignores her as well.

“You know you could pretend you don’t hate her guts,” he hears Louis say and when he looks up, he’s got an amused grin on his face.

Harry really wants to kiss it off. Or bite it. He isn’t sure yet. Maybe a little bit of both.

“Maybe when she acknowledges my existence I will,” Harry snaps.

“She’s not so bad once you get to know her,” Louis tries.

“I’ll do us both a favor and pretend I didn’t just hear that,” Harry says, looking down to his phone only to scroll back and forth between his home screens. He doesn’t look up when he feels hands sliding over his shoulders from behind. He swallows noisily when the hands continue their descent, taking a detour to tweak two of his nipples.

“Is someone jealous already.” It’s not a question.

Harry turns his head to bite at the inside of Louis' upper arm. “Maybe.”

“Love it when you’re jealous,” Louis murmurs, lips and tongue brushing against the hsell of Harry’s ear. “Gets me all hot. Lets me perform better, you know, hyped up on all this sexual adrenaline.”

“Sexual adrenaline?” Harry questions.

“Mmmhm,” Louis hums in his ears. Harry is still staring resolutely at his blank phone screen, but Louis is not deterred. “It’s like I can feel you moving my body when I’m up on stage.” Plucking Harry’s phone out of his unresisting hands, Louis moves so he’s standing in front of Harry. “Every bend of the knee,” Louis ticks off, moving so he’s lowering himself down onto Harry’s lap. “Every flick of the wrist, every jump, I think of you.”

Harry lets his hands slide up Louis’ thighs and cup his arse, squeezing gently, encouraging.

“Whenever I’m dancing with someone else, I feel like I’m at a club, dancing with them, and I feel like any moment you’re going to come up behind and rip me away from them.” Louis ducks to trail some kisses up the side of Harry’s neck. “I can almost feel your hands pulling me back against you.”

“Don’t think I can come to any more of your and Eleanor’s practices,” Harry says lowly, hissing quietly when he feels Louis’ teeth graze against his jugular. “Almost lost it today.”

Louis leans back so Harry can see him pout. Harry leans up to kiss it but Louis pulls away at the last second. Fucking tease.

“I like you being at my practices,” Louis states.

“It’s hard, Lou.”

Louis smirks and grinds his hips down on Harry’s lap, feeling exactly how hard it is. “I know,” he says smugly.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“What exactly did you mean then, my dear?”

He doesn’t give Harry a chance to answer because he’s suddenly yanking at the front of Harry’s shirt- even though it’s him that ends up swooping down- and tugging him in for a kiss that consists of mostly tongue and teeth. Harry moans as Louis places his feet on the floor- a foot on either side of the chair- and begins to grind down on him and roll his body against Harry’s. He works his hands up underneath the back of Louis’ shirt and drags his nails down the skin. Louis shudders and Harry swallows the moan instantly. The kiss breaks long enough for Harry to yank Louis’ plain white t-shirt off and suck at his nipples quickly. Making his way up Louis’ chest, he licks into Louis’ mouth and runs his tongue over Louis’ teeth once, twice, before pushing him away. Louis looks surprised until he watches as Harry stands and begins to undo his fly. Falling gracefully to his knees- as only a dancer can- Louis knocks Harry’s hands out of the way, leaning forward to catch the zipper in between his teeth.

They’ve got this move down to a science now and as soon as Harry’s got a grip of the top of his pants, holding it steady, Louis tugs it down with a sharp jerk of his head. Harry’s heart still stutters.

“We’re gonna get the dance floor dirty,” Harry points out as Louis begins tugging Harry’s ridiculous tight pants down enough to get to his dick; Harry’s shirt promptly falls to the floor.

Breathing hot over the outline of Harry’s hardness, Louis mouths at the fabric before saying, “No, we won’t.”

Harry lifts an eyebrow. “How so?” He’s pretty sure he knows, but he wants to hear Louis say it.

Unfortunately, Louis just winks before pulling Harry’s pants down. He wastes no time getting his mouth around Harry’s length. Harry really wants to sit down because he feels like his knees are about to give in, but he doesn’t want to risk disrupting Louis’ movements.

He hears little slurping sounds and every sound is going straight to his dick. Which is currently in Louis' mouth. Harry sees it as a win-win.

Louis pulls off and licks his hand quick before wrapping it around Harry. “God, I love your cock, Haz.” Harry has to hold back the whimper at the nickname. “Always fills me up.”

Harry growls at that and grabs a fistful of Louis’ hair and gently- as gentle as he can at the moment- pulls him up, blowjob temporarily forgotten- to kiss and bite at Louis’ lips. Louis’ still got a hand on him and is now rocking into him. It’s only then that Harry remembers that Louis’ member is still very much restrained. Snaking an arm around Louis’ waist to pull him closer, Harry lets a finger trace along the top of Louis' shorts before pushing them down and off with Louis’ help. He’s wearing these tight pants under them and Harry just lets both his hands wander down till their squeezing relentlessly at Louis’ bum, enjoying the short breaths he can feel Louis breathing by his ear.

“Have I ever told you how great your arse looks when you’re dancing?”

Louis hums and dips down to bite at Harry’s collarbones before saying, “Once or twice.”

“It always looks good actually,” Harry amends.

“How good?”

 

Harry moans as Louis’ hands tangle up in his hair, tugging gently. “Wanna eat you out whenever you you bend forward.”

Louis laughs a breathy laugh. “I’m always bending forward when I’m dancing.”

“I know.”

Once Louis’ pants have been successfully taken off, he pushes Harry gently down onto the chair before dropping down to his knees again to resume where he had left off.  
Harry keeps a careful eye out to make sure Louis' hands don’t go to touch himself. One is currently wrapped around the base of his dick while the other is tangled loosely in Harry’s own. Harry threads his fingers into Louis' soft and slightly damp hair while at the same time, leaning forward to kiss at the hand that he’s holding. He’s always had a thing for Louis’ arms. Whether it be his biceps or his delicate wrists, Harry can’t get enough. He licks and nips at the underside of it until he feels Louis pulling off. He releases Louis' hand and settles for tugging him forward by his hips.

Straddling Harry, Louis leans down to press a kiss to Harry’s lips, his hand finding Harry’s instinctively even though they just let go.

“Do you have a condom?” Louis asks in an almost sweetly innocent tone, his free hand finding Harry’s dick again.

Harry does. In the car.

There is no fucking way he’s leaving in the middle of this. So he tells Louis, “No, I don’t.”

Louis hums, short and thoughtful. “Too bad.” And before Harry can think, he’s lowering himself down onto Harry.

“Fuck,” Harry whispers, leaning up to kiss at Louis' throat which is now exposed since he has thrown his head back, eyes closing as he tries to concentrate. “Keep going,” Harry encourages, squeezing Louis' hand gently to recompense for the pain. “You’re doing so good, babe.” He leads Louis' hand up to his hair for him to have something to hold as he wraps both his arms around Louis' back, pulling him closer to him. Louis whimpers a little. Harry’s face is buried in Louis’ chest and he’s kissing every inch of it when he says, “Love how you can ride me bareback.”

Louis moans at that and like clockwork, slides a good few inches down.

Harry continues kissing at Louis’ chest, littering it with words like _love_ , _so good_ , _wonderful_ , _fucking fantastic, and _mine__. It isn’t long till Louis is fully seated on Harry, moving in tight little circles.

“Fuck, Harry,” Louis gasps.

Harry just smiles a proud little smile, holding onto Louis’ hips to steady him as he thrusts up a little bit. “Like this, Lou?”

Louis growls. “You know I do.”

“I know,” Harry says, giving a long slow thrust, making Louis moan in both pain and pleasure. “I just like to hear you say it.”

“Prick,” Louis retorts.

“You love it.”

Louis’ breath hitches in response. Slowly he starts working himself up and down till he’s steadily bouncing up and down on Harry’s dick, meeting halfway as Harry is still thrusting up.

It’s only when Louis stops in favor of grinding down and moving in tight little figure eights that Harry starts to lose it. Wrapping a hand around Louis, Harry starts to pump, slow and steady at first only to increase pace as he feels himself getting closer.

“Shit, Lou,” is all he gets out before he’s coming. He makes sure to increase the pace of his hand so Louis is coming soon after with a low whine and a gentle hair tug.

Louis’ head is resting on Harry’s sweaty shoulder, arms still wrapped loosely around Harry’s neck. The curly haired boy turns to nuzzle at Louis’ arm, nipping at it occasionally.

“Fuck you,” Louis says after a while, shoving at Harry’s shoulder. “There’s gonna be cum on the floor now.”

Harry just shrugs, unconcerned and leans up to press a kiss to the underside of Louis' jaw.

+

When Eleanor comes in the next day and points out a weird looking stain by the chair, Louis swears and Harry just smirks triumphantly.


End file.
